Deadly Heat (Deadly #2)(75)

Lora sucked in a breath. “What did you do?”

“I put a bullet between his eyes.” His fingers stopped drumming. “I took that f*cking shot.” He turned his head and his eyes met hers. “But she was still dead.” A long sigh eased from him. “We can put a damn gun to our heads and pull the trigger and get in that grave with them, if that’s what we really want.”

She’d never wanted that.

“Or we can keep living. We can try to find something worth living for.”

“What do you live for?” she asked him, almost afraid to find out.

But he just smiled, a sad, twisted smile, and she knew there’d be no answer to that question.

“You were living for revenge, weren’t you, Spade?” he tossed out instead. “But that doesn’t keep you warm at night, does it?”

“I don’t want to crawl into the grave.” The cemetery waited in front of her. “But I just… I don’t want that pain again.”

“Ah, babe, don’t you get it? There’s always pain. That’s how you know you’re living.”

Maybe. But why did living have to hurt? “I’m not scared of fire. I’m not scared of putting my life on the line.” She did it every day, yet in the quiet of the car, she found that she could be brutally honest with this stranger as she said, “But I’m scared to death of Kenton.”

Silence. Then he asked, “Are you really scared of him, or of yourself?”

I’m scared of the way I feel. She was losing control. Getting in too deep. Caring too much.

What if he just walked away? When the case was over, would he just go back to his job in D.C. and leave her behind?

I’m scared of myself.

Lora checked the road. She didn’t speak but she did start driving.


Monica waited until Kenton had left the Interrogation room before she crept closer to Sam. “Are you all right?”

Sam gave a quick nod. “Fine.”

No, the woman was really far from fine. “You don’t have to be here. We can work this case without you. We have enough manpower.”

“It’s my job.” Intensity filled her words. “I can do my job. I will do my job.”

Monica wished Hyde had talked to her about this first. No way was Sam ready to be back in the field.

Sam inched away. “If you’re worried about me messing up—”

“I’m not.” Breaking, splintering beyond repair, that was more of a worry.

“Don’t be,” Sam said, rolling right over the words, her voice trembling. “I made a mistake before, but it won’t happen again.”

A mistake? “You didn’t make a mistake, Sam. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I won’t lower my guard.” Sam’s arm brushed back, revealing the butt of her weapon. “I’ll do my job.”

It was more than just the job. “If you want to talk—”

Sam headed for the door. “I don’t.”

Monica stared after her. Way too soon. Couldn’t Hyde see? Sam was falling apart on the inside. She didn’t need the job right now. She needed to heal.

Luke filled the doorway. His green eyes locked on hers and heated. He stepped inside the room, but he left the door open as he walked toward her.

“I—I’m worried about Sam.” She kept her voice low.

He gave a nod. “Me, too. That’s why I tagged along.” His hand lifted and skimmed lightly down her arm. “One of the reasons.”

An innocent touch. If someone at the station saw it, it could be explained or ignored.

But her blood heated and her breath caught, because there was nothing innocent between them, and there never had been.

“I’m not working this case. I’m not on duty at all,” he told her, and she knew it was because Hyde had rules for them. She and Luke couldn’t be partners, not in the field.

Away from the field, there was no one else she wanted.

“I’ve missed you, baby.” His hand rose to her cheek and brushed back her hair.

She’d missed him.

His head dipped toward hers.

Voices rose from the hallway.

She wanted to rise onto her toes and press her lips against his. Right then, there was nothing Monica wanted more.

But eyes and ears were everywhere.

“Tonight,” she promised him as she put her hand on his chest.

He gave the slightest of nods. “Tonight, you’re mine.”

And he’d be hers.

? ? ?

Seth MacIntyre shoved open the front door of the station. He glanced around quickly and then his gaze zeroed in on Kenton.

Kenton’s brows climbed as the arson investigator hurried toward him.

“Who’s that?” Sam asked, her voice quiet.

“Arson investigator.” He’d been waiting for Seth to come with his report. “Tell me you’ve got something on that fire.”

But Seth shook his head. “Not damn much. The guy is good.”

They had to be better.

Seth handed Kenton a file. Seth’s long-sleeved shirt was wrinkled and stained with some dark soot. His hair stood up at odd angles, and his eyes were bloodshot. Yeah, it definitely looked like the guy had pulled an all-nighter at the scene. The scent of smoke clung to him as Seth said, “He used gasoline as the accelerant this time.”